


bouncy castle in the sky

by drakefeathers



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Afterlife, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, but really more like comic book limbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 04:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17379224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drakefeathers/pseuds/drakefeathers
Summary: When Damian dies, he finds himself in some kind of limbo with a girl who no longer exists.





	bouncy castle in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this wayyy back when Damian was dead and Steph literally did not exist in canon anymore haha (obviously both things have changed since)

The pain is the first thing to leave him, and he's grateful for that. The hands cradling him closely disappear, the pleading and whispered apologies dwindle into nothing. When he thinks he's done and can rest in the quiet, still darkness, that’s when the pain returns, different and worse than before. 

It’s heavy in his bones, crushing him, stifling him. It’s inside his skin, trying to rip him apart. He wants to cry out, but he can’t make a sound. His body doesn’t listen to him any longer. His body is the problem, but he can’t escape it.

He is startled to hear a new voice, much closer than the ones that have already faded to silence.

"Shh... I know it hurts. Believe me, I know. Try to calm down, okay? It'll pass in a minute, you just have to wait it out."

He can't calm down. He can't, because he can’t breathe. There is a weight on his chest, pressing on his lungs and squeezing painfully every time he tries to suck in air. So he stops trying. Lets go.

The relief is almost instantaneous. All the weight, every ounce of pain and worry and pressure, everything he was never even aware that he was carrying, it all melts away for good. For a while he drifts along, light and senseless.

Damian doesn’t know where he is. Everything around him is a blur of colour, incomprehensible, dizzying. The ground feels soft and unstable. Springy under his feet. 

He takes an experimental step and loses his balance immediately, careening backwards. His hands reach for support and find nothing but empty air, until someone catches from behind, looping their arms under his.

“Watch your step, huh?”

The face beaming down at him as he looks up is familiar, even though he’s seeing it upside-down. Sunny hair and blue eyes, and that wide, dimpled, infuriating smile.

"Ste-- Brown,” he says, failing to hide his shock. He isn’t wearing his mask, and neither is she. 

She shouldn’t be here, in front of him. She doesn’t even exist--he’s sure that just minutes ago he would have believed they’ve never met--yet for some reason he remembers her and every annoying thing she's done or said.

None of this makes sense. 

Their surroundings become clearer, the lines and colours organizing themselves as Damian focuses, and he realizes why the ground is so difficult to stand on, why it keeps rocking him side to side and making him struggle for balance. They’re standing in an inflatable, bouncy castle, childish and colourful, exactly like the one she forced him to play in, all those… He actually can’t remember how long ago it was. The memory seems far away, like a dream.

The top of the inflatable castle is open up to the night sky. There are no stars. Just a dark expanse of smooth midnight blue, the only light coming from the glowing bat-signal that hangs in the air like a full moon.

Stephanie grins at him jauntily, her hands on her hips. Along with her mask and her cape, her boots are gone, too. She's in sock feet and having a much easier time standing upright than him.

The smile seems forced. She looks at him for a good few seconds--and it’s strange, because he doesn’t think she’s ever looked so glad to see him--and her face relaxes into an expression that’s softer, more genuine.

"Well, how about that?” she says quietly. She ducks her head down slightly, though her eyes never leave his. “You do remember."

"Th-This has to be some kind of trick,” Damian snaps. He backs away on the shaky floor, nearly stumbling, and grabs onto a pillar by the wall to steady himself. He reaches for his belt, but the pouches are empty. He doesn’t have any weapons on him. “Explain yourself!"

“It’s not a trick, it’s just me. I’m here.” She hops a little bit closer to him and when he doesn’t attack or lash out, she rests a hand on his shoulder. A brief touch, as proof. “You've forgotten for a long time, and now it's all coming back."

"What's happening to me? Why--?" He chokes back the sudden panic and looks around wildly. "The others... They were..."

"You did it, kid. You saved them all. You beat the bad guy. It was amazing." But she seems sad as she says it, and Damian knows why. 

The memories are starting to come back to him. Leviathan’s army in the city. Smoke and gunshots. Grayson lying in shattered glass, that monster of a clone standing over him. They seem so surreal, so absurd in hindsight, but they’re true. They’re real.

It really happened.

"I was dying,” he blurts out. Then he looks down at where the sword had plunged through him, where the gaping wound should be but isn’t, and says more softly, "I'm dead."

He places his hand over the emblem on his chest, over his heart, but the armour of his tunic is too thick for him to feel his heartbeat. He shuts his eyes tightly and concentrates, straining to hear his own blood pumping throughout his body, but he can’t hear much at all, just a slight ringing in his ears.

Stephanie is still there when he opens his eyes. Her face says it all.

“Yeah, you are. I’m-- I’m so sorry.”

“I don't want your apology,” he says, scowling. “I want to know where I am, and I want to know what you’re doing here.” He jabs an accusing finger in her direction.

“I’m here for you, Damian. To help you move on, because I know what you’re going through.”

“How can you? You never really died. I heard what happened with Black Mask. It wasn’t real--you survived.”

“No, but I was about this close.” She opens her arms wide, gesturing around them, at their strange surroundings. Damian didn’t notice the wind before--they should be sheltered here, in the walls of the castle, but somehow the breeze is as strong and sharp as it is during a windy night high atop Wayne Tower. It stirs his cape and her blonde hair. “Saw the bright light and all that, and managed to drag myself back to life. I got lucky, though.”

There had been no bright light when Damian died. The closest thing is the bat-signal shining above them.

“I have been on the brink of death before. Mother always...” Damian frowns, thinking of brand-new organs and replacement spines. Thinking of how his mother had saved his life in the past, and how she had stood by and let him die at the hands of his ‘brother’. He shakes his head. “This time is different, isn’t it? There’s no way back for me now.”

He doesn’t mean for the words to come out so lost and pitiful. He sounds weak. He ends in a broken sob that he holds in by biting his lip hard. He tries to force the tears back by will alone. 

There is so much he’s not ready to leave behind. His father and Grayson and Pennyworth and his mother--even after everything she has done--and Titus... and... his legacy. It’s all supposed to be his. He is supposed to be the next Batman. He is--was--supposed to...

What about his future? His family...

He’ll never get a chance to...

It can’t all be over, just like that. It can’t.

Stephanie is watching him, looking heartbroken. "I'm sorry, Damian.”

"I don't want to go,” he says. He feels pathetic and very small. 

Damian crosses his arms, wrapping them around himself, and sinks down to sit cross-legged on the soft, bouncy floor.

"I understand. I didn't want to, either." Stephanie sits down next to him, close enough that her shoulder bumps against his, and for once he doesn’t bother to glare at her. "It sucks, leaving all of them behind. Knowing they're going to hurt and there's nothing you can do to help anymore. I wish I could've been around to help you. All of you.” She sighs regretfully. “But you'll see them again eventually. And you won't be alone, I promise. I know it’s no real consolation, but... It’s something, maybe? Hopefully?"

“Where have you been, Brown? Have you been here this entire time, doing nothing but jumping around while the rest of us were fighting to save the world? You aren’t even dead.”

She shrugs. “Maybe I’m not, and maybe I am. It’s complicated, you see... Some weird things happened. Some things I don’t think I could explain if I tried, and everything’s gone a little funny since then. It’s been almost a year since you forgot about me. Bet it’s been a crazy one, hey? I know about some of it, but you’ll have to tell me the rest later.”

Damian nods absently, and the two of them fall into silence for a minute or so.

“I’m worried about... what comes next,” he admits finally, unable to meet her eyes. “I’ve killed many people.”

He doesn’t know the exact number, doesn’t remember how many acolytes and ninja that died for the sake of his training, or how many tutors he killed after they had taught him all they could, to prove that he had surpassed them. Mother told him to stop counting years ago, because they were all inconsequential, all having outlived their purposes. They didn’t matter. 

But, instead of his own life flashing before his eyes, all he can see in his mind are their deaths. He looks down at his palms now, at the bright green gloves that are completely free of any red stains, even from the bloody, brutal fight that killed him.

“How do I know that what I’ve done as Robin is enough? What if they only remember me as what I used to be? A killer, instead of one of them?"

"You're a good kid. No, more than good. You're the bravest kid--the bravest person--I've ever met." Stephanie has started crying now. She quickly wipes her eyes on her sleeve and lets out a shaky laugh, smiling through the tears. “You’re a hero, you brat. Everyone thinks so, and they’re all so, so proud of you. Don’t ever doubt it. Not for a second.”

Damian swallows, trying to stop a lump forming in his throat. Those are the words he wants to hear, but they’re not coming from the right person. He wishes he could hear his father tell him that one more time. He wishes for just one more of Grayson’s irritating, suffocating hugs. He wishes a lot of things. 

It had been nice, while it lasted. He just... always thought he would have so much more time.

"As for what happens next...” Stephanie is saying. “I can't really explain. That's something you'll have to see for yourself. All I know is that you're coming with me." She tilts her head to the side, glancing at him curiously. “You trust me, right? It’s hard to tell with you, sometimes.”

She holds out her hand to him. It’s bare, her gloves missing just like her boots and mask. Damian pauses to pull off his own gloves and then tightly grasps her hand. Oddly, Her skin isn’t noticeably warm or cool. But she’s there, and it’s enough.

The soft floor and walls of the castle are gone, and they’re left sitting on hard ground. There’s only darkness around them and the deep blue sky above. The wind picks up and the bat-symbol slowly shrinks, its yellow light growing dimmer and dimmer.

“Can I wait here for a while longer?" Damian asks. "I'm not ready yet."

"Sure.” She squeezes his hand as a forceful gust of wind washes over them, as though trying to push them along. Unafraid, they stay sitting exactly where they are. “I'm waiting with you, Damian. As long as you need. We have nothing but time."


End file.
